


we were never kids

by spencerfragoso



Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-20
Updated: 2019-01-20
Packaged: 2019-10-13 02:31:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,512
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17479541
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spencerfragoso/pseuds/spencerfragoso
Summary: Only one thing truly connected Ava Sharpe and Sara Lance: the pasts that they had long forgotten, but still scratched at the backs of their minds. Ava was more than willing to give in - she knew she was meant for more than she was. Sara, however, refused to acknowledge the memories that presented themselves as dreams - she was nothing, especially compared to her deceased sister. Still, these...itchings, these dreams - or memories, or whatever they choose to call them - they drive the two of them together. And together, these dreams only become stronger, until neither of them can ignore who they are supposed to be.





	we were never kids

**Author's Note:**

> hi, i'm spencer. i redid this chapter because like...why the fuck not? anyway, i encourage you to leave comments because i am an absolute slut for validation :)))
> 
> everyone in this fanfic is gay or bi. everyone. nora, sara, ava, ray, rip - fucking e v e r y o n e, bitches

“Tell me about your sister.”

Her eyes flickered to where he sat in his chair; his legs were crossed and he had his hands folded neatly atop one knee.

The formality of it all sickened her.

“Tell me about what drove you to alcoholism,” she bit back.

He sighed and quickly ran a hand through messy brown hair. Splotches of gray painted the sides of his head. His eyes showed just how tired he felt, which was probably a side effect of his sessions with her.

She stood abruptly and walked to the large, rectangular window overlooking the busy main road. People hustled around each other, umbrellas open and fanning out above the sidewalk. A man attempted to drag his dog away from a kid riding by on a bike, though his tugs at the dog’s leash did not prevent the dog from knocking the boy over.

It was cold in the room. The heat usually did not begin to kick in until the afternoon. She ran her fingertips along the windowsill, idly observing the thin coating of dust. She contemplating telling him that he janitor should try to take better care of the room, though she bit the inside of her cheek instead.

He let out another tired, nearly defeated sigh, but she ignored him and listened to the rain outside instead. It was the drizzly kind that looked innocent enough until you made the mistake of stepping into it and were soaked to the bone. She shivered just thinking of the umbrella-less walk home she had to make in less than twenty minutes.

“Look, Sara. I know you don’t want to be here; you don’t exactly make that a secret.”

“No shit,” she mumbled.

“But,” he continued, “unless you want to serve jail time, you’re going to need to give me something. Court-appointed therapy sucks – I get it.”

No, you don’t, she thought.

“Maybe you should look at this as less of a judge order and more of something that could actually help you,” he told her. “Just a thought.” 

She refused to turn around and face him. Not in that moment. All she wanted to do was leave – to walk out of the office, to walk through the rain, past her shitty apartment, and just walk walk walk until the soles of her shoes wore down and she finally felt something other than anger and grief and guilt.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him look at his watch. “I hope that we can make more progress in our next session.”

She took that as her send off and hastily left his office without uttering anything that resembled a goodbye.

*  
Her body was made of the dreams that died inside of her when she was sixteen. 

Eyes crafted from the cruelty she learned from the world looked hard at the bottle of vodka standing on the counter in front of her. A shot glass rested next to it, calling to her, taunting her – no, not taunting her. It was less of a temptation, less of something for her to have been ashamed of. It felt more like a friend, like a comfort, something that was normal – hell, the only thing that was normal to her anymore.

She did not hear the door open and footsteps press into the hardwood floors.

“We have an hour to open and you’re already drinking?” 

Sara turned to face her fellow bartender, Charlie, and offered a full, unapologetic smile before grabbing another shot glass and filling it. “Tell me you won’t join me.” It was a dare, a challenge, and the thing most similar between the two was their severe competitiveness. 

The other woman seemed completely unfazed as she sauntered over to the counter. “Shot for shot?” she asked. Sara smiled widely at her and knocked back the first shot. “God,” Charlie sighed out. “Rip is going to kill us when he gets here.”

*

No one could call Rip Hunter an unkind man; still, he had hardened eyes that gave hints of an ever harder heart. He was perhaps the biggest hard-ass Sara had ever met, but there was always a gentleness to him when he dealt with her shenanigans. It was Rip who had given her more chances that anyone else, and she knew that behind her boss and owner of the Waverider Bar, there was a broken man who needed only to be helped.

While she thought all of those things, she had difficulty thinking of them as he scolded her and Charlie. He stood in front of the counter, both palms flat on top, and leaned ever so slightly forward. His expression made him seem more frustrated and tired than actually, flat-out angry, and that alone made Sara and Charlie feel the slightest bit guilty. 

Once he had finished his speech on why they needed to stop drinking at work and how he was going to take the vodka out of their paychecks, he turned his back on the women and stalked away to his office. The first customers had walked in at about the same time he closed his office door a little more forcefully than was necessary.

Sara and Charlie locked eyes and, after a moment of hesitation, burst out laughing.

“Shit,” Charlie sighed as she wiped a hand over her face. “I feel bad—I do. That guy needs a fucking break, I know that, but God did you see how red his face turned? I’m surprised he kept himself from screaming at us!” The two girls fell into a fit of giggles once more.

The afternoon was busy, though it had died down quite a bit at around nine o’clock. Wednesday nights were usually one of the most boring for Sara; the lack of customer flow left her with little to do. According to Rip, however, she was supposed to always have something to do, but Charlie and the waitresses that worked the Wednesday shift – Zari and Nora – were always productive enough to get everything done by around eight.

Zari had been friends with Charlie and Sara since Sara’s sophomore year of college when the three of them all lived together in the same suite. It was sharing the same bathroom that had eventually brought the three of them close together. Constant bickering over which spray to buy or whose fault it was when the toilet paper was out had let them grow together.

Nora was new to the bar – it was only her second week, and she remained a bit of a mystery to everyone on the staff. It frustrated Sara to no end; she always felt a need to know the people she worked with on a level that probably surpassed normal coworker relationships. 

The newest member of their staff was currently trying to balance a tray of drinks in one hand and a basket of fries in the other. Her table was on the other side of her section, and Sara watched her as she focused on the tray. 

Sara watched as a group of college-aged guys started towards the door, which meant they had to pass by Nora. The blonde rolled her eyes and started towards Nora, already sensing the disaster.

Just as one of the guys bumped into Nora and knocked her backwards, Sara grabbed the tray from her with one hand and used the other to hold onto her arm and balance her. The guy muttered a ‘sorry’ and kept walking.

“Prick,” Nora spat. She looked gratefully at Sara. “Thanks.”

Sara let out a soft laugh. “No problem. I thought I told you not to use one hand for the drinks until you’re absolutely ready.” She was the farthest thing from a server – Rip had let her try when she first started working there, but her personality clashed with nearly every single customer she ever served – but she still knew all of the rules and Rip often allowed her to train new staff.

“Sorry,” Nora told her. Sara knew she meant it.

“Don’t worry about it.” She looked around the bar and noticed that there were only two small groups of customers left. “Do you want a drink?”

Nora raised an eyebrow and looked toward Rip’s office. “Isn’t that, like, not allowed?”

Sara shrugged. “Don’t worry about Rip – he left about an hour ago. Urgent family business. I think his son has the flu.”

Nora had never considered that Rip had a family; she just saw him as this dark, usually overwhelming presence that never really left the bar. She smiled at Sara and shrugged. “Well, I’ve already served those tables, so I don’t see why not,” she said.

A happy glow illuminated Sara’s face as she took Nora’s hand and guided her over to the bar where Zari and Charlie were in a heated debate about something Sara probably did not care about. “Let’s get drunk!” she said in a hushed tone to avoid drawing attention from the customers.

Zari rolled her eyes. “Didn’t you two just get your asses handed to you, like, six hours ago?”

“Seven, but, yeah,” Sara admitted. “We only had a couple of shots before Rip walked in, though – barely enough to give me a buzz. It’s Wednesday night, Rip is gone, there are barely any customers here, and Snart is in the alley smoking as if we don’t all know he hasn’t been able to kick his little nicotine addiction yet. Let’s get weird!” Sara exclaimed. 

She was right, in everything that she had said, and the other three were unable to deny any of it. The shift was starting to get boring and they all knew a little bit of alcohol would help rather than hinder the rest of their work night. There were still five hours left until they were supposed to close, and the two groups of customers were probably the most people they were going to see for the rest of the night.

Charlie poured herself a shot and starting making one of Zari’s favorite cocktails. “To getting weird,” she said as she swallowed the liquid. The burn in her throat made her face screw up slightly, but she fought through it and smiled as she felt the warmth in her stomach.

“You guys are insane,” Nora said. “Give me some bourbon.”

Sara basically shrieked. “Oh, we have a bourbon girl!” She walked behind the counter to stand next to Charlie and poured a shot for Nora. The girls all laughed as they picked up their drinks.

*

Ava sat in her car, watching as the raindrops pattered softly onto the windshield. She had yet to turn her car on, even after fifteen minutes of staring out into the open, night sky. A layer of goosebumps claimed her flesh and it was the cold that finally snapped her out of it.

Sometimes she swore that if she listened – really listened – to the rain, it began to speak to her. She heard whispers around her, indecipherable wisps of air that tried hard to get her to understand. It was though she felt its frustration and while she did everything in her entire being to hear it, to finally speak the language that whispers spoke to her, she just was not able to.

There was a hole in her heart whenever she listened to the rain, as though she could just barely remember a time when the whispers were shouts and she did not have to strain to hear them. When she was younger, she would stand in the middle of her driveway whenever it rained, feel the water fall onto her skin. It made her skin tingle, made her blood feel thicker, as though it was not just blood that ran through her veins, but something stronger – something ancient, and powerful, and terrifying. 

Her father had told her once, when she tried to explain it, that she just wanted to feel special because there was nothing for her to feel special about. 

She believed him, for a while. 

Although she was unable to make out whatever she believed was itching in the back of her mind, she felt a drive, something other than the cold, to start up her car and tear out of the driveway. And so she did.

Every turn felt calculated, like it was supposed to be this way, like she knew exactly where she was going, even if though she did not. 

She did not pull over and turn her car off until she was in the parking lot of a gay bar that she had heard of from a friend who had just started working there. That fact alone helped Ava feel more comfortable – clearly she had driven there because she wanted to see her friend. It had been almost a month since the last time they got together.  
Ava knew Nora from high school, when Ava was a senior and Nora was a freshman. A senior and a freshman being friends was not entirely normal at their school, but Nora was the only person who really challenged Ava, even for someone who was five years younger than her. They had clashed when they both were trying out for the field hockey team, but their desire to destroy each other somehow made them respect each other in a way that inevitably made them friends. 

Even after Ava graduated high school, the city’s university was only a fifteen-minute drive from Nora’s house, and while Nora’s father was absent most of the day, she spent a lot of her time in Ava’s dorm. After about three hours of arguing with the housing committee of the college and then finally bringing her case to the dean, Ava was able to get her own private dorm room. She still had to share a community bathroom, but her room was mostly separate from the others.

It had made Nora feel even more comfortable staying with Ava, though. Ava was the sister Nora never had, and that she desperately needed. As Nora was the only person who saw her as more than just a tight-ass with no personality, she was more than willing to pick up the position of big sister. 

Ava smiled at the memories as she stepped out of the car and pulled her coat around her a little bit together. The rain was barely coming down anymore, but she still relished the feeling of the wind pushing droplets into her face.

She pushed the door to the bar open and was welcomed with the sight of an almost-empty building and the staff knocking back drinks at the bar. The bell on the door chimed quietly, but it was loud enough to get Nora’s attention.

Her head turned towards the door and a large smile graced her features. “Oh, my god! Ava!” She rushed towards Ava, her steps lopsided, and engulfed her in a tight hug. “I haven’t seen you in, like, three months!” she slurred out.

“It’s been one month, and you’re drunk,” Ava told her, matter-of-factly. 

Nora just laughed. “I love you, Aves! I’ve missed you so much!”

The nickname made her wince – no one had called her that since her mother died, and Nora knew that. Ava chose not to hold it against her; the younger woman was clearly intoxicated. “I didn’t know employees were able to drink the merchandise,” she stated.

Sara stepped up behind Nora. “Well,” she said with a smirk, “I’m in charge, and I say we can!”

Zari and Charlie cheered behind her as they poured more drinks. Zari, looking at the familiarity between Nora and Ava, shouted, “Hey! Nora’s friend! What do you want?”

Ava sighed as Nora laughed and nudged her towards the bar. “Bourbon,” she said.

Sara touched shoulders with Ava. “Another bourbon girl?” Her eyebrows shot up as she regarded Ava. There was no denying that she was hot, even if she had her hair pulled into a bun tight enough to scream, “I have a stick up my ass!” If anything, Sara took that as a challenge. 

“Yeah,” Nora piped up. “She’s the one who got me into drinking just straight bourbon. Makes me feel like a man!” she practically yelled as she took another shot.  
None of the other employees had ever seen Nora so loose and fun – she truly had seemed like she was enjoying herself. Sara laughed loudly, liking the side of the mysterious woman that she had never seen before. It was then that she knew Nora would eventually – hopefully – make a good friend.

Ava, on the other hand, was reserved. She politely asked Zari to pour her a glass of bourbon, and she sipped from it slowly. With interest, Sara watched Ava from the other side of the bar. Charlie eyed the blonde carefully, but did not say anything. Zari and Nora were completely oblivious to anything that was happened as Zari cracked open a beer and chugged it while Nora cheered her on as obnoxiously as possible.

“So,” Sara said as she turned to Ava, “how do you and Nora know each other?”

“High school,” Ava responded curtly. She took another sip from her glass. 

“Not very big on talking, are you?” Sara smirked at her, and it was then that Ava allowed herself to really look at Sara. Her freckled face was far more attractive than Ava wanted to admit in that moment.

She downed the rest of her bourbon and slid the glass back to Sara, who caught it in her hand expertly. She filled it again and slid it back over to Ava. The glass hit the palm of her hand and only a small amount of liquid sloshed over the rim.

Sara quirked an eyebrow as she considered how impressed she was. “Almost like a natural,” she commented.

Ava allowed herself to chuckle – it was soft, and relaxed, and Sara liked it. “Yeah, well, I’ve gotten use to this ever since Nora turned nineteen and finally convinced me to buy her alcohol and drink with her.”

“Isn’t that a felon? Look at you – all professional, and serious, and tight-bun, but really you’re just another criminal,” Sara teased.

“Another?” Ava questioned, regarding Sara suspiciously.

It was realized in an instant that Sara must have slipped up; a light pink tinged her cheeks and she slapped her mouth closed as though she was embarrassed of the admittance. Ava knew not to push further.

“Is this all you do? I’ve been wondering what Nora has been up to since graduation – not going to lie, I had hoped it was more than just…this.” Ava looked down at the counter. It was not that she was judging Sara or her friends; it was just that sort of big-sister position she had fell into – they were too far into their friendship for Ava to just give it up.

Something in Sara’s stomach turned. She felt something in the pit of her gut – she knew what it was, but she refused to acknowledge it. Acknowledging the feeling in her stomach meant acknowledging her loss, her guilt, her anger.

Jealousy.

Damn, that little green monster really was a bitch.

Sara pressed her lips into a thin smile, one that was incredibly too bitter for Ava to ignore. 

“Are you her keeper or something?” Sara asked. Ava could practically feel the venom of her tone hit her in the face.

“No, I just – Nora is like a little sister to me.” Ava refused to lock eyes with her.

“So you’re like her big sister, then?” Sara asked. She willed her voice to not choke up as much as it had wanted to. Ava simply nodded. “Nice,” Sara whispered. 

The sudden tension and discomfort seemed to spread across the entire bar. Snart peered around the corner from his station of bouncer-duty, though he quickly turned back and minded his own business as he went back to “guarding” the door. The conversation between Nora, Zari, and Charlie seemed to die down a bit as Nora took a hesitant step towards Sara and Ava.

“Hey,” Nora started, “are you guys all right?”

Sara nodded wordlessly. Ava opened her mouth to answer, but instead thought better and closed it. The rest of her drink was finished quickly and she held the cup out to Sara. The blonde took it, though her fingers bumped against Ava’s as she grasped the glass.

There was a moment where everything paused – it was not like in the movies, in a this-is-my-soulmate way. No, something sparked inside both of them, and it was something dark and familiar and awful. Neither of them felt able to pull away; instead, they stared at each other, in a sort of trance.

Memories seemed to swirl around in both of their minds, just out of touch – they saw them, blurry and in the distance, and they knew that once upon a time, they would have been able to see past the blur, like they had once worn glasses.

Still, it was a sort of intensity that both of them could only explain in one single word:

Death.


End file.
